


message sent

by youngerdrgrey



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-26
Updated: 2012-06-26
Packaged: 2017-11-08 14:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngerdrgrey/pseuds/youngerdrgrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all sent messages are received, especially not texts to a dead man. || This is what happens when I don’t find a person to RP with on Omegle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	message sent

****

Sherlock, it’s been a week. Where are you? -JW

...

Sherlock, I can’t be in our flat. I can’t - I don’t know what to do anymore. -JW

...

Sherlock, Sarah’s getting fed up. I’m not very useful, she says. I’m not really there. I don’t know what she expects of me. -JW

Well, I know what she expects. That I’ll move on. Be able to be part of society. Be with her. What a fool. A hopeless… fool. -JW

...

Sherlock, I can’t keep doing this. I can’t wait forever. -JW

...

I know you’re not dead. Let’s have dinner. -JW

Sorry about that one. I’m desperate. I just want you to talk to me. Please. -JW

...

There’s a case. You’d love it. Everyone’s stumped. They asked me if I had any ideas, but I’m not good at that. Not as good as you. I know you’re curious. It’s got to eat at you, not doing this. So just come back. I’m waiting. -JW

...

Maybe you have amnesia. Is that why you haven’t come home? You don’t remember? Well, I’m home. I’m where you should be. Come back to me, Sherlock, or whoever you are now. Just - damnit, get here. Now. -JW

...

Mycroft stopped by for tea today. No pretenses. No nothing. Anything, sorry. He just stopped by to talk to me. We didn’t talk about you. We never do when we see each other. We mostly converse about how poorly things are going in the world and painstakingly do not mention how much better they’d be if you were still around. He misses you, you know? A lot. He even admitted to it. And at the end of that, he said, “but not as much as you, John.” Everyone knows it. I miss you most. There, I said it. Is that what you’ve been waiting for? I miss you. -JW

...

I miss the way you’d blather on whether or not I was listening. I could wake up from a nap and find you right where I left you, just talking. It was never quiet. -JW

...

I miss the rush of running around the town with you. I got so accustomed to the different cabbies then. Knew all about them from when you’d ditch me and go off in your own cab. I saw Steven the other day. Nice guy. He misses you too. -JW

...

I have too much food now. I used to throw stuff out ‘cause it smelled too much like whatever body part you had decaying. Now I have no need. It’s awful. -JW

...

I learned how to use those blasted self checkouts. I had to. Each person at the register wanted to chat about you. Machines don’t ask. They also don’t understand that simply because my can of beans is not in the bag doesn’t mean that it’s bagged improperly and needs to be re-checked by a cashier. I hate those things. -JW

Almost as much as I hate being alone. -JW

Which I am. Since you’re gone. -JW

...

I miss your mind palace. -JW

...

I miss Angelo’s. -JW

...

I miss you. Sherlock, I miss you so much. -JW

...

I’m sick of this. Sick of waking up every morning and going to bed every night knowing that the world is not getting any better than it is now. I need to be doing something with my life. What’s there to do now? Exactly. So why am I alive? -JW

...

A woman approached me asking for my autograph. Loved my blog. I nearly hit her I was so angry at her. How dare she? She has no right to bring that up. None. I hate people. -JW

...

I hate dogs too. Especially big ones. -JW

...

I hate having a job. -JW

...

I hate cabs. -JW

...

I hate you. -JW

...

Where are you, Sherlock? -JW

...

Should I give it up? Should I stop texting then? You’re never going to respond. You’re a bastard. You know that, don’t you? -JW

...

You’re pathetic. -JW

...

I’m done. No more texts. No nothing. -JW

...

Anything** -JW

...

One more. When we first met, I let you use my phone. That’s the first thing I let you do. And the last thing you ever did was call me on it. I kept this number because it means something to me. It’s the last I have of you. The only thing that hasn’t been tainted by the rest of the world. Today, I’m shutting it off. I’m going to do something with my life. Something far away from London and from you. It’s your last chance. Text me back. -JW

...

John. -SH

...

What? Sorry. You’ve got the wrong number. -KL

...

Not the wrong one, merely at the wrong time. -SH

...

Isn’t that the way it always goes? -KL

...

Not always, but often enough. Enjoy the number. It’s a very special one. -SH

**Author's Note:**

> Any thoughts?


End file.
